Witch for Hire

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Witch for Hire Page 17

by Conneely, N. E.


  "She had a date," Amber added.

  "Spill."

  "Slow down, girls. I had a date with a witch from Fannin County. We had coffee in Ellijay a few days ago. It was fun. He was very charming an polite. At the end of the date he gave me his number." I quickly summed up the date.

  "Did you call him?" Tiffany asked.

  "Yes, I called him and left a message. He hasn't called me back yet."

  "Poo. I don't like him." Tiffany stuck out her tongue.

  "Tiffany! He works. I work. I don't have time for a second date anyway." Not wanting to spend any more time on Andrew, I changed the subject. "I don't know how to say this, but I met my father." From the mouths ajar, I figured I should explain while they recovered from the shock. "I dropped by Mom's house the other day, and he was there. It was rather awkward, but he wants to be in my life. He even agreed to help me teach a class to hedge-practitioners."

  The pizza arrived while they were trying to form questions, and the rest of the discussion was broken up by pizza and garlic knots. Dinner flew by all too quickly, but by the end, we had decided my parents were weird, I should try to have a good relationship with my father, and gelato was a necessary part of the evening.

  After hugs, and promises to do this again soon, we headed out. The sky was cloudy when I started the drive. The weather worsened the longer I was in the car. Halfway to Forsyth, the first flurries tumbled out of the sky.

  Two hours, later I was curled up in a hotel bed a few blocks from the police station. With the television off, the quiet was oppressive. No cars were out; the hotel was nearly empty, but through the window I could see two kids dancing. They scuffed, scooped, and mounded what was on the ground into a snowman in between dancing in circles. Smiling, I watched them dash across the parking lot, tumbling to the ground before making snow angels.

  One car rolled through the red light at the other end of the block. Idiot, I thought. Even the police were crawling through this weather.

  Turning away from the window I adjusted the heat, not wanting to be cold. My hand was leaving the temperature knob when a screech drifted through the window. Jerking up I saw the same car fishtailing down the road, headed for the curb guarding the hotel. The kids had stopped perfecting their snow angels, but didn't see the car because of a hedge. The same hedge blocked the driver's view.

  It swerved again, and I thought it would miss the parking lot, continuing down the road, but with another lurch it lined up to run down the children. The two of them were standing up, but would never have enough time to move.

  With the car barreling through the hedge, I ran out of time. Throwing my hand out I willed the strongest shield wall I could summon into existence. The car smashed into the wall, the backlash hitting me, landing me on my butt. I shook my head, trying to clear the dazed feeling.

  I yanked myself up, uncertain if I'd saved the kids. The children weren't in the parking lot, but the car was crumpled, smoking, and stopped only feet from where I'd thrown the shield. My breath rushed out as I sank back on the floor. The unscarred cell phone was next to me. It must have fallen out of my pocket.

  Mashing the speed dial I waited for him to pick up. "Jones, I need a few units, an ambulance, and you at my hotel."

  "Are you okay?"

  "I think so."

  "What happened?"

  "I broke a car." Dumping the phone in my pocket I threw on a jacket and boots, hearing the sirens as I started down the stairs. Jones was going to be mad at me.

  The first policeman arrived the same time I did. I waved them away from the footprints and car tracks, trying not to contaminate the scene. Until Jones arrived, the tracks couldn't be preserved. I could've preserved them, but it was frowned upon since I'd been involved in the accident.

  The clouds parted long enough for the full moon to wash the accident in a surreal silver light. Seconds later the moon was gone, hidden behind the snow filled clouds. Red and blue lights flashed over the parking lot as the reinforcements arrived. The paramedics ran straight for the car.

  I introduced myself to the officers; working with a police department didn't mean I knew everyone. Officer Tusca took my statement, while the guy in the car was hauled into an ambulance. Officer Tusca finished questioning me before intercepting Jones, who needed to check the magical residue before speaking with me.

  Two hours later I'd finished my reports, but was still at the police station sipping coffee to stay awake. Jerry was never going to let me hear the end of this. Breaking a car was something he'd torment me with for years. As if summoned by my thoughts, he walked through the door.

  "Before you say anything, I've finished the preliminary paperwork. We can talk about everything." He swung a chair around, sitting on it backwards. "How are you feeling?"

  "Lightheaded, empty." Normally, I could feel energy inside me, rippling across my skin. Right now I felt a drop, rather than a river of power. "I pulled some of the power out of the charms I was wearing or I'd be in worse shape."

  He studied me, trying to find something in my face. "You saved those kids."

  I shrugged, worried about the driver.

  "The driver has a concussion. He's being kept overnight for observation. Even if he'd missed the kids, he would've hit the hotel. We're charging him with reckless endangerment."

  "Good. I was worried I'd killed him." I didn't want to carry the death of a soul around for the rest of my life.

  "If you care, he's actually a drunk, juiced-up dwarf. The lab's working on what transformed him to human size."

  "Seriously?" I'd never heard of a drug that could do that.

  "Yup. You did the right thing." He paused, "You look exhausted. I'll drive you back to the hotel. You need to rest if we're going to catch trolls tomorrow."

  I set the cup on the table before I dropped it. "Thanks. I'll feel better in the morning."

  As he guided me out of the room, I could see from the twist of his mouth that he had more to say. "You better be. We can't just leave those people-eating trolls out there. It isn't kosher."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Michelle

  "Michelle." Someone shook my gently.

  I flailed at their hand and cuddled back into bed.

  "Michelle, you need to get up." I was shaken again, a little less gently.

  "Go away," I mumbled into my pillow. The muffled voices behind me talked about something for a while before they all quieted down. Grateful, I drifted off.

  I shrieked, leaping out of the bed. With a heaving chest, I blinked rapidly, trying to get the water out of my eyes as it dripped off my hair. I spied Jones in my room. "What, in the name of Narzel, are you doing?"

  "Nice outfit, Oaks."

  "Deal with it. I didn't feel like putting on clothes last night." I was standing in my now wet sports bra and panties. "Why did you throw water on me?"

  "It seemed like a good way to get you out of bed."

  "And why are you in me room?" I asked.

  "I got worried. We had planned to meet at nine. I gave you another hour to show up. It's nearly eleven." He was looking at the wall behind me.

  I grabbed a sheet off the bed, wrapping myself. "Did you bring me tea?"

  He handed me a warm mug. "It's your energy-building brew."

  "Good." I sipped, feeling the warmth seep through me. "Now go away and let me dress." I watched him walk out of the room and close the door.

  Once he was gone I took the fastest shower of my life, braided my wet hair, and pulled on the clothes I'd laid out before the craziness last night. Last night's efforts left me ravenous, so I pulled a granola bar out of my suitcase before I left.

  Jones was the only one outside the room. "I sent everyone else away."

  I handed him the keys, "You're driving my car." I needed the supplies I'd packed, and it was a waste of time to move them.

  "I figure we'll plan until a bit after noon, grab some lunch, and figure out the rest of the day while we're eating." He was watching me, just glances, as he drove
.

  "Done. I need another cup of tea before I'm useful." I'd done a number on myself last night. It wasn't good to pull that much energy through an unprepared body. The long, deep sleep and tea had helped, but I was dragging. Besides, no one was at their best after being awakened by cold water.

  In the work room, I poured another cup of tea, drinking it as quickly as possible. Ten minutes later, my brain had caught up with my body and I was ready to work. "Help me bring a few things in from outside, please?"

  I was on my best behavior. Jones was more of the make-fun-of-you type than the sympathetic type. I didn't want to hear funny Jones today; I wanted to get this done, keep my job, and deal with the plant in my bathroom.

  At the car, I loaded him up with two duffels and a large box. I took a backpack, a small box, and a satchel. Everything left in the car was for emergencies. We set my stuff on a spare desk in the workroom, my home away from home for the next few days.

  "What's the plan?" Jones questioned.

  "What?"

  "You do have a plan? All this stuff isn't just for show, is it?"

  "Ugh, I'm never playing poker with you." I sighed. "Yes, I have a plan, or five." I hopped up on the desk, swinging my legs while I talked. "I want a few werewolves, or whatever shifters you have that can track, to look around. I don't think they'll find anything, not after all this time, without a specific area to search."

  "Then why bother?"

  I studied him, the face revealing nothing and the deceptively casual slump against the wall, not finding a clue to his thoughts. "I want them to look in areas where we've confirmed a troll presence. If they don't find anything outside of the immediate vicinity we'll know something is covering up their scent, perhaps more."

  His eyes darted to the clock behind me. "I'll call a few people. We can discuss the rest of this over lunch, and everyone will be ready to roll a bit after one."

  "Perfect." I studied the floor, not that there was anything special about it, to give me something to look at while he called everyone.

  "Sandwiches?" he questioned, more for tradition than need.

  On the way to the office, I noticed the roads had less snow than I'd expected. Lots of other cars were on the road, and it was staying below freezing so there wasn't much ice.

  Salazar's Subs had a big "open" sign flashing in the window, proof that some god favored me. I was able to get a tofu sub and a bag of chips.

  "Where do you want the shifters to search?" Jones asked, between mouthfuls of the biggest Ruben I'd ever seen.

  "Around the blast site, and the two murder scenes. I doubt they'll find anything around the blast, but it's worth checking." I munched a few chips while I thought. "What's the latest report on the blast?"

  He hurried to swallow. "A group of four, or so, drove a cargo van up there. They set the blast, not entirely correctly as you know, loaded up the trolls, and took off."

  "I don't want to spend much time there, just a quick check. I'd like to look at the other two more closely."

  "Do you want me to send one shifter and his partner to the blast and have them report back?"

  I considered. I wouldn't be there, but it would be so much more efficient. "What shifters do you have?"

  "Two wolves, a jaguar, and a dog."

  "White?"

  "Yup, he's the only kitty with the department."

  I giggled. "I wouldn't say that to his face."

  "Eh, it's a running joke."

  "Anyway, what if we send the weredog to the blast, and take the rest to the chicken farm. Then we can all meet at the house in town. I think we'll find the most at the last place."

  "Okay. Now, let me make sure I understand. You want us to have the shifters scout around to tell you they can't find anything because, why?

  "I think someone's using magic to hide the trolls." I told Jones.

  "So, not finding anything will prove that magic is hiding the trolls?"

  "Yup."

  "Why not look for magic?"

  Sighing, I put my drink down. "Concealment spells don't work like that, or good ones don't. I'll check, but if they're good at hiding something they would've laid the spell on the trolls. Then there wouldn't be a scent, or magic, left behind for us to follow."

  "What if they were bad with magic?"

  "Then they'd need to waste a lot more energy to cover the traces as they were left. The better spells take more skill and effort to set, the less effective spells are easier to set, but draw small amounts of energy as something needs to be concealed."

  "Let me guess, you'll know what we're dealing with after you know the type of spell that's being used."

  "Exactly." I waited until he slurped down the last of his drink before taunting him. "Last one to the car's a rotten egg." I took off, laughing as he swore.

  Michelle

  Ten of us sat down in a small conference room to plan the afternoon. White, a jaguar, and his partner, Walker, were to my left. Across from me was Johnson, a dog, and Walters, a dwarf. The werewolves, Baker and Ray, were sitting closer to Jones. Their partners, Miller and Simmons, were with them.

  Jones stood up and cleared his throat. "Today we are going to search several areas where we have confirmed troll activity. The shifters will be going out in their animal form in an attempt to track the trolls. Any questions?" He waited for a moment. "Good. White and Walker will be going to the troll preserve. The rest of us are going to the chicken farm and the house in town. Questions or comments?"

  "I'm biting anyone that makes a joke about me." Johnson glared are the other guys.

  "Why would they make a joke?" I asked.

  He rolled his eyes. "You'll see. And I'm not above biting a woman."

  "That's enough. Go shift." Jones shooed the shifters out of the room.

  "I'm sorry about Johnson, ma'am," Walters said. "Back in training, some guys made fun of him because his other form is a Golden Retriever."

  "Oh, thank you. I can see how that would be awkward."

  Walters said, "He's sensitive."

  I nodded. That was the kind of thing guys could make jokes about for days. Thanks to Walters' warning, I wasn't surprised when a mass of gold fur trotted through the door. The two werewolves and the jaguar were right behind Johnson. The shifters were buttoned in to vests labeled Police.

  White and Walker headed to the troll preserve while the rest of us formed a convoy out to the chicken farm. I would've enjoyed the convoy more if it hadn't been such a road block. One police car slows down traffic in both directions as people frantically chant, "Not me, not me!" Four police cars inspire the same fear coupled with curiosity. People want to know what the cops are doing; rubber-necking, gossip, and bad driving results.

  We pulled in to the chicken farm and rolled over to the still taped-off bit of grass and trees. As long as we stayed at the crime scene, there wasn't a reason to talk to the family. The conversations with them hadn't gone well last time and I didn't care to meet them again.

  The wolves ran out, eager to stretch their legs. The Golden Retriever was a bit slower, but went to work right away. The rest of us watched them canvas the area, sniffing where the bodies had been, and working outward from there. The three shifters crossed paths, followed each other, branched out, but all came to a stop fifty feet from where the troll's body had been.

  Walters pulled out a dry erase board, scribbling two lines on it. Johnson trotted over and nosed the top one. The two wolves also nosed the top line.

  "The trail ends where they sat."

  "Thanks," I called out as I pulled out my wand. I'd really hoped I wouldn't be needed.

  I cast a simple spell, letting me see magical residue. The taped-off area showed nothing but a faint glow where the body had been. Outside the tape, there was nothing. I walked all over the areas the shifters had been to, past where they'd stopped, and waded through brush looking for traces of magic.

  Rejoining the group, I released the spell. "I didn't get anything. Does the medical examiner still have
the body?"

  Jones answered, "I don't know. I'll check when we get back. Let's get to the house in town."

  This drive wasn't as fun as the last one, mostly because of my thoughts. I'd thought Carls was silly for refusing to use his shifters, or any non-humans, to the best of their abilities, but it wouldn't have made any difference in this case. Not being fond of dead bodies, I really didn't want to work on one in hopes of learning about the concealment spell. Working closely with dead bodies made me ill.

  Jones' phone rang, startling me.

  "Jones." He listened for a moment before saying, "Oh really? Good. We'll meet you in town."

  He hung up before addressing me. "They didn't find anything. White was able to find an area he thinks the van was loaded in, but nothing else."

  "I expected as much. I've been thinking, could you get that captured troll for me to look at?" Not that I wanted to be near a live troll, but it might be a better than the dead ones.

  "I might. Thought it would be better if we could use the dead one. The folks at the troll preserve have been hard to deal with lately. The feds have been out there gathering evidence, and three people have been arrested and charged with fraud."

  "Really?" Best news I've heard all day. Considering how those trolls were being treated, only good things could come from the feds getting involved. "Good. The trolls should be treated better. I've been to other preserves where they're more civilized. You can talk to some of them. They teach classes for their young. They aren't monsters."

  "You won't get any arguments from me as long as I'm not on the menu." He chuckled.

  "What's new with the rest of the organization?"

  "Eh, we have a few leads, but we're worried about tipping them off. These people are organized, and good at slipping away. We want to get them, but it's been hard to gather evidence when we can't talk to anyone."

  "So, you don't know anything?" I questioned. Either he wasn't in the loop, or the police were at a dead end.

  "We're monitoring e-mail accounts, phone conversations, and we have a few people under surveillance. The phones are hard because most people know to use a disposable, but they tend to slip up and call numbers we can trace, which helps." He sounded aggravated with the bother.

 

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